Breaking Through The Ice
by Not Jeff
Summary: What if, in the beginning, Jack was unable to leave the lake? Frozen for centuries, he wasn't able to become the happy winter spirit we all know him as, and he can barely control his powers. Will he end up being a hindrance for the Guardians, or the blessing they so desperately need? Story going through re-write!
1. A Boy

A/N: And because I'm some kind of nutjob who couldn't just add another chapter, I've chosen to rewrite the first one. Huzzah. Instead of starting in the lake, we get to look at quite a bit of Jack's life.

***Line Break***

A boy, young, maybe three. Sitting in his mother's lap, while she sings softly to him, ruffling his soft, brown hair, so like her own. Kind, motherly love the only thing he knows.

A boy, no more than seven, looking into the eyes of his newborn sister. Her small wrinkled face is the first thing he sees, but her soft brown eyes, so much like his and their mothers, are what makes him love her.

A boy, twelve years old, standing with his five year old sister, and his grieving mother, staring at all that was to remain of his father. Knowing that he had new responsibilities, that it was his job to protect his family, but also his job to make sure they still had some joy left in their lives.

A boy, fifteen years old. His sweet little sister, scared but trusting, knowing that he would save her. And he didn't care what the cost of saving her would be.

A boy, who could see only darkness. Cold, hard ice, unforgiving and unbreakable, refusing him escape.

A boy, scared, who only wants to get out.

A boy, alone, who just wants someone to hold him.


	2. Numbers

A/N: Well, inspiration struck literally four minute later, and I typed this up. I think each chapter might have it's own theme, if there will be more chapter, that is. This is up to any viewers who like this, and suggestions are accepted happily!

***Line Break***

_One, two, three, four…_

The first few moment of terror ended quickly, and he began counting to pass the time. He doesn't remember where he learned the numbers, only that he knows them.

_Fifty-five, fifty-six, fifty-seven…_

Why can't he get out? Maybe if he struggles, he could break the ice? But no, there's no room to move, no room to even open his mouth. It's so cold, and he's so scared, but he can't even scream.

Five thousand nine hundred and ninety-eight, five thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine, six thousand…

He can hear them. The people above. He knows they're there, and they know he's here. They laugh at him, the boy trapped in the ice. They think it's funny.

He knows it.

_Two hundred and twenty nine thousand, two hundred and twenty nine thousand and one, two hundred and twenty nine thousand and two…_

There are shapes in the ice, beautiful ones. They make the loveliest of faces, always smiling, always happy to see him. They talk to him, make sure he isn't lonely. They're his friends, they care about him. They would help him out of the ice, but they'd have to shatter, and they don't want to die.

_One, two, three, four…_

How could he have lost count? He was supposed to keep count, supposed to make sure each and every second is known. But now, now he doesn't remember which number he's at, doesn't know where he is, where he's going. How will he ever catch up?

_No, no, no, no…_

He won't count anymore. He won't give them that pleasure. They can just watch as he sits here, doing nothing. They don't get to know what the numbers are. They don't get to keep count.

_One hundred and one, one hundred and two, one hundred and three, four…_

He's sorry, he's so, so sorry. He won't do it again, he promises! He'll keep on counting. Just… just don't leave him alone.

_Five hundred and twenty two million, nine hundred and eighty three thousand, two hundred and five…_

He didn't even know there were numbers that big. Such beautiful things, always there, never changing. They're so much like him; they must be his real friends. His old friends don't talk to him anymore, and he's been so lonely.

_Twenty-two billion, four hundred and six, twenty two billion, four hundred and seven…_

He doesn't want to get out anymore. Is there even anything up there? Who's to say it isn't all empty, with nothing, not even his numbers? Maybe it's good he's in the ice, maybe he's safe here.

_…_

He can't think. It hurts, it just hurts. He doesn't even know why, it just hurts so much. He remembers what number he's at, though. He'll never forget again.

_Nine hundred trillion, six hundred and seventy eight, nine hundred trillion, six hundred and seventy nine…_

There are voices again. He hears them more clearly than any before. Things like 'Jamie' and 'Sophie', and 'be careful'. That last one, he's heard it before, but it was such a long time ago. When did he hear it? Is it important? Well… it can't be. It isn't a number, nothing but the numbers matter.

_No, please, not again, please, please, please, please, please…_

He forgot again. He forgot the number again, how could he have forgotten the number again? Please, just remember, just come back. Don't leave him alone.

_Seventy-one, seventy-two, seventy-three, seventy-four…_

Wait, what is that? It's different than the stillness he's used too, and he can almost move, but then what? What's going to happen to him, where will he go? How is he going to survive without his ice and numbers?

Please just let it be cold again.


	3. Bunny POV

A/N: Okay, so I may be posting this sometime while I'm still in my practice period. Please, oh please, do not expect too much. I hate disappointing people, and I just realized that I need to focus a lot more on school, so… yeah. Patience is a virtue and all that, right?

Also, POV change. Be warned, the bunny arrives, and I suck at keeping up an accent. Suggestions are welcome, and even encouraged. Please, help me. I'm American, so at least I'm letting you know up front that I'm hopeless.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Also, I finally learned how to do this!**

Bunnymund stared at Pitch, too exhausted to even be angry. To his left, Tooth lay on the ground, she herself unable to stand. North was suspended somewhere a few hundred feet in the air, while Pitch just laughed.

The only missing is Sandy, but Sandy… Sandy won't be coming back. A sudden cold chill passed through his fur, and he couldn't fight the shiver. Three Nightmares watched him, ready to attack if he tried anything. But what could he possibly do? He's just a little bunny, now.

And… there's North. Bunny could only watch impassively as the large man fell the great distance, slamming into the frozen lake just a few feet in front of them. Normally he would have been curious about how the crater already began fixing itself, ice slowly reforming, but he just kept on focusing on North, on how Pitch already had his bloody Nightmares lifting his oldest friend up, up, up, _down_. At least it wasn't so far a drop this time, right?

But just having to watch, having to see his closest friend be hurt again and _again_… he barely inclined his head when he heard a small shriek next to him. He couldn't lift a paw to help Tooth as she struggled to stand, and grabbed an oddly shaped stick. He just watched her stagger towards Pitch, watched Pitch smile that stupid sadistic grin of his, and remembered how to close his eyes just in time. A shriek, a shout, and a thump later, and Tooth was back lying next to him, a bloody welt on her head her reward for being able to stand up to a madman.

Pitch was about to drop North _again_, when he finally noticed the hole in the ice.

North collapsed in a small pile to the side while Pitch inspected the lake, clearly interested. After a moments contemplation, he gestured to his Nightmares. "Start emptying this lake, I want to see something." What could the bloody idiot be doing _now?_ Bunny considered trying to hop over to North, just to check whether or not the man was still breathing, but his guards warning glare was enough to keep him away.

Pitch seemed pretty interested in what was going on, and then it seemed like his Nightmares finally-

White filled Bunny's vision, before he lost his grip on consciousness.


	4. Fighting

A/N: Why, _why_ must you people write nice things? You compliment my work, and then I have no choice but to update. Well, I probably wasn't going to actually DO my homework anyways.

A/N2: I'm taking a few liberties here. I doubt there are studies done on immortal spirits trapped in ice for three hundred years, so I'm just gonna make up a few things, like Jack not really understanding colors. All he knows is ice, and same.

A/N3: I had no idea I'd left off a seemingly insignificant detail at the end of this chapter. I fixed it, and I'm sure you'll all catch it.

***I like these Line Breaks better***

He stared at the strange shapes around him, unable to truly see what they were. Darks and lights, and things that he couldn't name, couldn't describe, couldn't understand.

He had been trying his hardest to keep things stable, to not move, counting as fast and as loudly as he could, but no, the world around him kept on cracking, the odd things that came into view just kept on coming.

He saw these… _things_; he wasn't sure what they were. They certainly weren't his face-friends, finally coming back to see him. No, they were dark, and moved oddly, and seemed to want nothing more than to take him away from the only place he's ever known.

And then he _did_ see a face, but it was wrong, wrong, _wrong_, and he had to make it go away, because it didn't look like the ones from the ice, and it was _moving_. Things aren't supposed to _move_!

And he fought; he fought as hard as he could. And he did… something. He wasn't sure what. He was still counting, he never stopped for a minute, but then… oh no. One of _things_ hit him hard, and he _lost. The. NUMBER!_

When that happened, a new color came, one similar to the ice. It was light, and cold, and made him feel _so_ much better. He was able to calm down, and nothing was attacking him.

It seemed like, just for a moment, he saw a flash of something else-

**Something golden-**

-And then saw no more.


	5. Tooths Find

The Title has been changed to Breaking Through The Ice

A/N: Thank you all for reading. I really do appreciate the fact that you've taken the time to look at my story; it really does give me the best feeling.

Also, YasminSnowflakeFaith, I promise I'm trying to write longer chapters. I've actually given this one quite a few tries, once I noticed that I don't have very much bulk at all to my chapters. Hopefully, this one will be a bit better. Well, length wise. I don't think it's my best writing. After all, I still suck at accents.

**VERY IMPORTANT: **Do you think North talks the way I'm having him talk? I'm not sure, and I want it to be as accurate as possible.

One last thing, was my attempt at a moment of levity too forced? I'm almost afraid it was, and I've got a slightly different chapter without it just in case it was too awkward. This is just how the whole thing happened in my head, is all.

***WARNING: THERE IS A LINE BREAK RIGHT IN FRONT-**

Tooth looked around herself warily, not quite remembering standing up. She could see the lake, or what was left of it, a huge pit filled with broken shards of ice. She couldn't see either of her friends. They might be hidden under the snow, she isn't sure.

Tooth managed to take five steps before falling, and she felt something jump. Shifting aside snow she didn't remember falling, she found her friend, Bunny, shivering and wet. His light green eyes stared into her own purple, before closing sleepily. She held him to her body, while looking for North.

For some reason, Pitch and his Nightmares have left. Tooth can't imagine why Pitch wouldn't have killed them first; he knows that even without believers, they can't freeze to death. Get cold, and possibly even sick, but not die.

Tooth came upon a large mound of snow, and prodded it carefully with a stick she _did_ remember trying to hit Pitch with. Feeling something inside, she quickly dug out North, finding him injured, but alive. His red coat was torn to shreds, his black hat nowhere to be seen.

Thankfully, whatever serious injuries North had have healed for the most part, even the most severe gash is little more than a scrape. He just needs to rest for a while after expending so much energy. If he had believers, he would have been fine just minutes after getting hurt.

Tooth decided to take a quick look at the area around her; there might be something they can use to get back to the Pole.

She had only been walking for about ten minutes before hearing something odd, something almost like… _counting?_

Following the sound, she ended up going down the side of the lake, right down to the center. Struggling past the ice shards as they got closer and closer together, she finally came upon a shocking sight. A young boy, somewhere around fourteen or fifteen, hoarsely whispering numbers with a strangely triumphant grin on his face.

"Sixteen million, five hundred and eighty-three thousand and four, sixteen million, five hundred and eighty-three thousand and five…" Tooth quickly walked over to him, and touched his forehead, hoping he wasn't sick.

Startlingly blue eyes snapped open, staring up at her in shock, and confusion, and _fear_. He tried to slowly wriggle away from her, but he arms and legs were stick thin, and didn't look like they could support anything.

When his mouth opened, Tooth couldn't help but take a moment to admire his teeth. They were so perfect, white and straight, and just the right size. Of course, she went right back to helping him when he screamed, a sad little sound that barely made it above a whisper.

Tooth finally gave up, just for a moment, so that she could see if North had woken up yet. She quickly found that trying to climb out of what was left of the lake was infinitely more difficult that climbing in. Struggling past the ice once again, she heard voices, these ones the familiar Aussie and Russian sounds of her friends.

"Look now mate, I saw Tooth just a minute ago, and I hadn't seen you anywhere. My guess is, she carried me here, and then went to look for some place to sleep or something," came Bunny's exhausted voice.

"No, no, no! Pitch, he must have taken her, we must rescue her! Tooth is danger, and we must protect her," North cried.

Catching sight of Tooth finally making it out of the lake, Bunny smirked a bit, before going, "You know what, mate? I think you're absolutely right. Tooth is _clearly_ in terrible danger."

"Yes, you finally understand! We must be going now, while we still have chance!" Managing to just barely stand up, North began walking towards the woods. "We shall have to move quickly, otherwise Pitch shall be getting away." Turning back to further address Bunny, he continued, "Hello Tooth, we are just going to… stop laughing. Stop it, now."

"So glad you care," joked Tooth. It's nice, finding a moment of humor to keep away any depressing feelings. But still, they do have jobs to do, and Tooth wants help with that boy. "I think I need your help, there's a kid at the bottom of the lake. He's scared, and I'm pretty sure he's hurt. At the very least, he can't walk."

North and Bunny shared a glance before nodding, both walking over to where Tooth gestures. Climbing down once more into the lake, Tooth decided she really truly despised walking.

North took a double take upon seeing the boy, curled into a ball, wearing what Tooth suddenly recognized as clothing from three centuries ago. They hesitantly inched closer, but the boy opened his bright blue eyes, saw them, and screamed as ice went flying.


	6. Going To Be Fun

freakybubbletea: Thanks; I thought he seemed fairly off myself. I plan on looking up some fics centered around North, and watching the movie over a couple times. Hopefully, I'll get a better handle on him.

Everyone else: I'm so, so sorry. I cannot make these chapters longer no matter what I do. Hopefully, as I learn and become a better writer in general, some decent length will follow.

Now, without further ado, our favorite man in black.

***This Line Refuses To Break***

Rubbing his jaw in thought, Pitch planned his next move. Just a few hours before, he had been near a town called Burgess. In the space of a few minutes, however, he had been blown all the way to the Mediterranean. Normally, this would infuriate him, but the sequence of events… those were very curious indeed.

The Guardians. Truly his most hated enemies, the ones who had always been able to defeat him no matter what. But finally, _finally_, he'd gotten the upper hand. He had _beaten_ them, forced them into the ground, made them feel like the insignificant worms they truly were… and then he had gotten distracted.

He had been messing around, really, just having fun with the fat oaf. The so-called warrior was nothing but a fluffy little rabbit, and the fairy could barely even stand. It had been… exhilarating, having that much power over them.

Of course, he just had to get distracted. While trying to see how high he could drop the old man before he splattered like one of those water balloons, he had cracked open a frozen lake. He normally wouldn't care, even if it _was_ the strange lake that never melted. But inside, he had seen… well, he had seen a person. A young boy, perhaps fourteen or fifteen. Ordinarily, he just wouldn't care. He's seen dead children, there were several other corpses in the same lake, but this one was obviously alive.

It hadn't taken him long to realize that the child was actually a winter spirit, very few others have the same white hair and eyes, and he honestly doubts anything else could actually _survive_ at the bottom of a frozen lake, but the question then was, _what was the boy doing at the bottom of a lake?_ No winter spirit is fanatical about the cold enough to trap themselves in ice; even the most insane would get bored within an hour, and break out to cause havoc and bury the worthless humans beneath the ice.

And even if none of that was piquing his natural curiosity, there is the simple fact of what the boy could do. That raw power, abilities wild and untamed. Now that is something he's interested in. And no one can protect the boy from him.

Because that boy is helpless. Even though the Guardians are with him now, at this very moment, they can do nothing. They would be far too concerned with the danger the boy presents, all of that power locked inside a scared little boy with no training whatsoever? He'd flatten every city in the country with one snowstorm, killing countless children. The Guardians would never allow it.

And all Pitch would have to do it find that boy. That boy, so obviously frightened, so woefully unskilled, so _unbelievably_ powerful… even as he was on his knees, begging for mercy, unable to fight as his fear consumed him, that delicious fear which would only feed Pitch, making him stronger, letting him rob the child of all reason and willpower…

Oh yes. This will be fun _indeed_.


	7. A Warm Dream

A/N: There has been a slight jump back in time, to when Jack got put to sleep, just so you know. While it may seem short, this will also include the few hours Pitch mentioned last chapter. Also, Jack thinks in weird ways. I mentioned it before, but he doesn't remember color, and probably a whole lot of other things.

A/N2: I get that this isn't the best chapter, I don't think I have Jack's character down quite right. I'll keep trying, though.

***Line Breaking, Line Breaking, All Day Long***

The small three-year-old boy lay quietly in his mothers lap; her gentle hands brushing back his soft brown hair, while his brown eyes fluttered between wakefulness and sleep. Comfortable and warm, he listened to the gentle croon of her voice.

_"Hush ye, my bairnie_  
><em>Bonny wee laddie<em>  
><em>When you're a man<em>  
><em>you shall follow your daddie.<em>  
><em>Lift me a coo,<em>  
><em>And a goat and a wether,<em>  
><em>Bringing them hame<em>  
><em>To your minnie ye, my bairnie<em>  
><em>Bonny wee lammie<em>  
><em>Routh o' guid things<em>  
><em>Ye shall bring to your mammie<em>  
><em>Hare frae the meadow<em>  
><em>deer frae the mountain<em>  
><em>Grouse frae the moorlan'<em>  
><em>And trout frae the ye, my bairnie<em>  
><em>Bonny wee dearie<em>  
><em>Sleep! come and close the een<em>  
><em>heavy and wearie<em>  
><em>Closed are the wearie een<em>  
><em>rest ye are takin'<em>  
><em>Sound be yer sleepin'<em>  
><em>And bright be yer wakin'Hush ye, my bairnie<em>  
><em>Bonny wee laddie<em>  
><em>When you're a man<em>  
><em>you shall follow your daddie.<em>  
><em>Lift me a coo,<em>  
><em>And a goat and a wether,<em>  
><em>Bringing them hame<em>  
><em>To your minnie thegither."<em>

Sleep overtaking him; he looked up into her warm face. Long brown hair hanging loose, gentle smile singing beautifully, brown eyes filled with adoration. Feeling warm, and happy, and safe, he closed his eyes, barely feeling the kiss she pressed to his head.

"I love you, Jack."

***Line Breaking, Line Breaking, All Night Long***

Jolting awake, the last vestiges of the dream fading, he _remembered_. He didn't notice the smile, just continued on with the only thing that mattered. Closing his eyes, he began.

"Sixteen million, five hundred and eighty three thousand and four, sixteen million, five hundred and eighty three thousand and five…" He paused for a moment, noticing that he was doing something _different_. He needs to stop, and do things the _same_.

He was about to count right when, no, no, _no_, _NO_! Something _touched_ him. It's different, and bad, and it has to go away. It has to go _away_!

It looks like nothing he's ever seen, not like the ice, not like the dark things, so many _differents_, even different from itself. He didn't know what was going on, and just started doing something like the different from before.

And… it worked. It went away, slowly and almost falling, and he got back to counting…

_Not again._ Again and again, he forgets his number. Curling up, he started over, not noticing the wet on his face. Just counting, counting, one, two, three, _GO AWAY!_

It's back, and there's more of them, and he could, he could… he just…

He doesn't know what he's doing, he's just doing it, and then, then the _ice is back_.

_Much better._

_ One, two, three, four, five…_

* * *

><p>AN3: The song is called 'Hush Ye, My Bairnie.' I didn't see who it was by.


End file.
